


when it's said in the dark

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alley Blow Jobs, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Original Percival Graves is Bad at Feelings, Rimming, grunge neo realism bullshit, long and rambly prose like driving down a road littered with autumn leaves, rentboy and disinterested credence barebone, sad tired and overpaid percival graves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-30 14:02:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12654990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: “I want something more.”Credence is busy counting the money, though he always says he trusts Graves, but can’t be too careful. It makes him wonder who’s hurt him, who’s lied, and he knows that he’d beat them bloody if he could. Instead, he puts those same deadly hands softly on the boy’s cheeks, forcing him to look up, to meet Graves’ eyes again.“Like a handjob?”He’d laugh if he could.





	when it's said in the dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [burgundians](https://archiveofourown.org/users/burgundians/gifts).
  * Inspired by [till the siren come calling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11562165) by [burgundians](https://archiveofourown.org/users/burgundians/pseuds/burgundians). 



> mainly inspired by the graphic made for my request and also the lovely fic: till the Siren  
> [this exists because im a nasty bitch who wants all the smut] 
> 
> rentboy cre is basically ruining graves' life one orgasm at a time but graves is... in love.
> 
> http://braganzas.tumblr.com/post/166373861681/au-meme-neon-80s-requested-by

_Don't get excited, don't get excited, don't get excited, it's Friday, but he may not show up._

Graves reminds himself that it’s all up in the air, and to not depend on anything, much less when it involves bending a very fragile law past the breaking point. Otherwise his frustration will color his entire weekend. Time off is a rare commodity those days, so he relishes any bit he can have.

He pulls over to the curb and parks in front of the bakery that’s always swarming with customers, whether college students or mothers and their kids, pacified by the sugar laden garbage inside. The older folks probably survive on strong black coffees, and he knows that they serve them, because he’s been in there exactly Once.

The first time he met Credence. To discuss _business._ Sitting across from the boy, it would have been easy to mistake him for another college student, but he’s barely eighteen, and that grates at Graves’ conscience. He said very little about himself, but Graves isn’t a cop for nothing. He found out what he needed to know, and then researched the rest on his own time. Credence would hate him if he knew. He’d stop meeting him. Then Graves would be left with Nothing. No bright spots in his week, nothing to look forward to on Mondays.

Credence grew up in a Bad place, and moved out, away, to somewhere Worse, while better all at once. Foster care. He’d aged twice as fast, left at sixteen, that was where his official record ended. Petty theft, one count of arson. Lots of skipping school until simply dropping out. Graves felt his cop-senses tingle every time he saw a head of dark hair and haunted eyes. They weren’t ever Credence, but they reminded him of the boy.

Credence was always on time, especially, Graves reasoned, since money was involved. He never said, but Graves suspects he’s the only steady job the boy has ever had. He’s not sure if he loves it or hates it. Being something normal while being very Abnormal indeed. The coffee is cold in his center console cup, so he winces, and chokes it down, the clock reading half past three. It’s time to see what fate has decided to do. He strides down the alleyway and catches sight of a shadow that makes his entire body relax.

“Credence.”

“Mister G.”

He hates that too. The nickname that makes him sound like a pimp. He’s the exact opposite, and it makes his jaw clench around his smile and the wash of relief. Credence doesn’t pin him to the wall, but he’s done this so many times, he knows the routine. He’s paying _because_ of the little things.

How he reacts to a hand in his hair, the way that his eyes dip closed when he gets really into it. The way Credence leans in close, the soft flush on his cheeks, and the way his bottom lip gets red as a cherry from his efforts.

Graves’ head falls back into the bite of the brick, just like every single other time, and he relishes the pain. Credence is moving over him with a practiced ease, lips taut, tongue soft and quick. Graves can’t remember what he was going to say, nothing leaves his throat beyond a gasp, and a groan. His fingers tighten in the silken waves, and Credence hums, hands braced carefully on Graves’ waist, not making a single wrinkle.

By the time he comes, far too quickly, as per usual, he always gets excited looking forward to those days, he lets go just in time to miss the fire in Credence’s eyes. Graves’ own gaze drops to the boy’s throat, catching the movement as he swallows, and with a shaky hand he reaches inside his jacket, gets the envelope and extends it, while Credence is busy putting him back together. Long fingers tuck his soft cock away, and gently redo his zipper. Credence’s knees wobble, as he stands, takes the envelope, and Graves has mere seconds, he knows. He puts the same hand, a touch sticky with whatever product the boy uses in his hair to the back of his neck, rubbing nervously.

“I want something more.”

Credence is busy counting the money, though he always says he trusts Graves, but can’t be too careful. It makes him wonder who’s hurt him, who’s lied, and he knows that he’d beat them bloody if he could. Instead, he puts those same deadly hands softly on the boy’s cheeks, forcing him to look up, to meet Graves’ eyes again.  
 

“Like a handjob?”

He’d laugh if he could. He sure as fuck can’t come again _that_ fast. “Not exactly.”

His thumbs caress the color, fading fast, catching how Credence’s tongue slips out, wets his plush mouth, and then swallows again. Graves thinks, if he kissed the boy right now, he’d taste himself.  

“How much for the night?”

Credence can’t keep looking at his mouth like that, it’s obscene. That’s only for him to do, staring, drinking in, being desperate and shaky and nervous like he’s a goddamned virgin. The only thing he’s never done before is pay for sex. Congrats, Credence popped his cherry. “For every hour.”

Graves nods, dropping his hands, focusing on the hem of Credence’s own worn navy hoodie.

“If you don’t have other appointments I mean. I don’t want to keep you.”

“I don’t.”

Credence seems to say it in a rush, as if it was itching the back of his throat for a while. Graves doesn’t dare look up at him yet. “How many hours?”

The envelope crackles as Credence stuffs it into his waistband and drops his hoodie over it. The glimpse of milky skin Graves saw was marred with a streak of pink. A scar. His heartbeat thuds loud in his ears. “How much more have you got?” Graves bites the inside of his cheek till he tastes blood. Far too much. Old family money. Money from a hush job, money from a lawsuit over stolen identity. He’s lazy with money. Follows his best friends investment advice, doesn’t bother moving shit around. Credence needs cash. Likes cash only.

“What’s the hourly rate?”

He’s only ever paid for this. These few stolen moments, twice a week. Less than a half hour, it seems. In his old age he’s getting randier for things like this. Or maybe it’s just the boy’s talent. He rather hopes not. But he also Does. Credence thinks a moment, silent. Graves looks up, and sees the boy hugging his arms around himself. He’s still here, standing in this dirty alleyway, and it all feels too good to be true. It’s not even four, but Graves isn’t going back into work today. The weekend starts early, right Now.

“For you… since you’re a uh, regular. Sixty… sixty-five.”

“Eighteen hours. I want you to stay for breakfast.” Graves blurts out impulsively, and Credence quirks a brow at him, arms loosening, “Okay. Morning sex is fun.”

He wants to cook breakfast for Credence, see him eat at least two good meals in his presence. But that works too. “Yes. It is.” Graves turns away, lost in thought while also hyper aware that Credence is following close behind him. “Do you have the-”

“I’ll need to visit the ATM. If you want, you can wait in the cafe?” Credence is already shaking his head when Graves looks around, and he smiles, tight, “Okay. Just don’t memorize my PIN.”

He doesn’t care. He has a dozen accounts. He has this one just for his worst self.

He’d give it to Credence if he asked. He knows he won’t.

Graves exhales a slow shaky breath and selects the maximum withdrawal. He has to sign for it on the digital screen. He chose five thousand. He can see by the reflection that Credence is staring at his phone, flicking through something, giving Graves his privacy.

There’s no envelope dispenser so he ends up turning to Credence,

“Can I have that back, real quick?”

“I trust you not to cheat me.”

Graves rolls his eyes, and tucks the rest of the money inside it.

“Once we’re at my place you can have it all. You don’t have to do anything but just ride with me.” Credence shrugs, “Okay. Lead the way Mister G.”

The car ride is mostly silent, and Graves can’t think of anything to fill it that wouldn’t be pointless, or an excuse about the vehicle itself. It’s his squad car. He suspects Credence has known, for a very long time who and what he is, but either not cared or just let it slide because of how his money talks.

His place isn’t bad but it’s rarely lived in. It’s got the feel of a very expensive hotel suite, sterile, furnished, and devoid of life. Graves opens his mouth to ask if Credence wants something to eat or drink before they get lost in the machinations of what paid sex is, and he declines politely.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to use your shower.” Graves blinks. “Of course.” He gives the directions and only has to ponder for a moment once Credence has vanished down the hall. “Oh.” He probably should too. But he’s scared of the _what if’s._ What if Credence thinks he’s just going to be taking care of Graves, what if he doesn’t _want_ to be taken care of in that manner?

Graves sighs, and stares wistfully after the boy for far too long. In the end, he chases after him, and knocks gently on the door. Credence’s voice echoes back to him, “Yeah?”

“I forgot something in there…” He’s got the door open, frozen in his lie, and Credence blinks over at him, soaked to the bone, hair plastered to his forehead and cheeks. “Oh. Did you want to join me?”

Graves chokes on the _‘yes’_ and shakes his head. “Honestly I just wanted you to have a moment.” Away from me. He doesn’t say. “Come on. I’m done.” Credence steps out, dripping, naked as the day he was born, and Graves averts his eyes, just in the nick of time. Credence tucks himself into a towel, and grabs a second for his hair. It gets set aside quickly, perhaps the boy’s afraid to be seen as wasteful. Graves feels his eyes on him. He doesn’t mind. He shucks off his starched and sweat soaked uniform in a few moments. Credence watches until he steps into the shower, then leaves the bathroom. Graves isn’t sure if he’s grateful or more nervous now.

* * *

 

Credence doesn’t once consider leaving. Not when he’s made an agreement and the envelope this time weighs about seven pounds. Just guessing. He’s not counting, no need, when it’s all hundreds and fifties and twenties and thick. Along with one five dollar bill. Part of the regular payment. Mister G. Percy the policeman. He’s not the only one with the internet, a vast amount of resources. Credence smiles into his hand as he wanders around the house. Not snooping, just looking. He can still hear the water running, and it never once grew cold on him.

It’s a big, fancy house, and the man acts like it’s nothing. Credence can’t imagine what that’s like, but he is grateful. Mister G is the first, and only person to treat him like he’s not just a commodity to be bought. He _is_ , but there’s a difference between knowing and being told over and over without words. Not to mention, he’s considerate. Allowing the shower, taking one himself. Credence has experienced worse.

His hair drips coldly onto the back of his neck, and he shuffles the towel on his shoulders around, before pulling it down and tucking it at his hips once more. He’s ready, and also not, all at the same time. This whole night belongs to Mister G, and Credence is prepared for the basics. The idea of sex with Mister G doesn’t make his stomach tie in knots. He feels… happy. He’s going to get at least one free meal out of it, without having to put up a charade for people out in a restaurant. Unless Mister G decides they’re doing exactly that after sex. He hopes not.

“Credence?” That’s his cue. His feet bring him back quickly to the bedroom, just in time to see the man step out of his bathroom, dressed in as much as he is. His lips quirk in a smile.

“Mister G.” There’s silver at his temples, and even in his chest hair. Credence’s mouth opens to allow his tongue to wet his lips without a thought, and the man’s eyes drop to follow the movement.

“Please. Just call me Percy. Just for tonight.” Credence swallows. “That’s extra.”

“Okay.” He’s lying. Teasing. It’s a joke that falls on deaf ears. “There’s more than eighteen hours worth in there. In case of that.” The man says it matter-of-factly, like he didn’t just ask for a simple courtesy, as if he’s really inconveniencing Credence. “Oh.” He should have counted, to know.

“Percy.”

“Yes?”

“What do you want?”

He approaches Credence slowly, considerate, like the kindest of lions stalking prey.

“Just a kiss to start.” He nods. It’s been months since he’s been kissed. It’s extra. He keeps his mouth shut that time. Mister G, Percy leans in, and Credence meets him halfway. Both of them are fresh, clean, and Percy’s skin is still heated from the shower. Credence’s lips remain closed, pressed together firmly but not tight. He feels the wet silken touch of the man’s tongue, and it makes his eyelids flutter to half mast, then all the way shut. A hand braces gentle on his naked shoulder, fingertips digging into his skin. He wants them to bruise.

Credence reaches out and puts a hand to the man’s chest, heartbeat obvious beneath his fingertips, as the kiss deepens. Percy’s lips part wider, trying to coax him into opening his mouth, and he does so, reluctant, just in time for the man’s tongue to swipe over his bottom lip and in, pulling back to murmur,

“Can I touch you?”

Credence nods so fast he gets dizzy, but he’s not sure what the man could mean. He’s already touching Credence, petting the nape of his neck now, fingers curling into his damp hair, while his other hand grazes his side, before sliding down the curve of his spine, tracing along the towels edge.

“Your cock. I want to put my mouth on your cock.” Credence’s eyes snap open at that, as Percy’s swallowing, from nerves, maybe. He blinks, startled at Credence’s focusing look.

“Wouldn’t you rather I did-”

“No.” With a gentle, but firm hand, Credence is edged back, until the bed can be felt behind his knees, while Percy’s body is right in front of him, a solid wall of muscle and tanned skin. Credence inhales a big lungful of air, and everything sharpens. Percy’s got a drop of water, or maybe it’s sweat, just starting to trickle down the side of his temple, and Credence has a mad urge to follow it with his tongue. “Okay.”

The towel drapes around him as he moves to sit, and Percy shucks off his own, folding it effortlessly to make a cushion for him to kneel on. He’s on his knees, between Credence’s trembling and parting legs. Now he’s dizzy for another reason altogether. He’s not usually affected like this, not from a John.

This is just business, this is just business, this is just-

Percy’s tongue is hot, wet, and more flexible than Credence imagined, not that he fantasized much outside of their meetings about the man, really. His inner thighs shake, and his hands fist in the towel, needing a place to light, but afraid to impose, to ruin the man’s hair, which is somehow styled even fresh from a shower. Percy is only kissing his bare hip, and then nuzzling against the dark curls above his cock, but Credence still feels his arousal surging forth, the coil tightening in his gut. He has never done this before, not at all. Allowing himself to be at a John’s mercy has seemed like a bad idea, until now. Percy breathes over him, and then descends.

Credence’s hips jerk up, and he exhales sharply at the first contact to his cock, a soft kiss, and slow swipe of tongue over the head, before Percy actually takes him into his mouth properly, and sucks. Credence is a connoisseur of blowjobs, a master of his craft, hence his surprise at the apparent request for more, or simpler, from Percy. The man is nothing short of a rentboy all grown up, a handsome man who’s happy to devote himself to pleasing his partner in bed, his number of lovers must be high, which begs the question, why Credence?

Percy works his tongue steadily against the underside of Credence’s cock, until his legs are clamping together around his shoulders, or trying to. They’re held open obscenely wide, by firm hands, and braced elbows. Percy lets his cock slip out of his mouth, and coughs. Credence must have accidentally triggered his gag reflex. He opens his mouth to apologize, and a moan comes out instead.

“Good. I was afraid you didn’t like it. You’re so quiet.” Credence wants to argue that it’s because he’s usually the one on his knees, as Percy returns between his legs, promptly interrupting him, moving lower now, his mouth still gentle but teasing over his testicles. The hands on his thighs slide inward, but press out and up, guiding him to rest them on Percy’s shoulders. So now he just has to be careful not to crush the man’s head.

Credence jumps in the man’s hold at the first tentative brush of a tongue on his ass, and might have just let out a whimper from the subsequent lick. Percy’s fingers curl into his skin, possibly leaving marks if not bruises, and it makes him harder. His cock is drooling onto his stomach, puddling precum into his navel, and Credence’s hands itch to touch himself. He doesn’t. Not yet.

Percy’s going at it so well, he can almost feel saliva dripping down his cleft, and it makes him squirm. No amount of the man’s tongue fucking into him is going to be as good as the first thrust of fingertips, and the ease of finding his prostate to _force_ him to come. But he’s getting ahead of himself. Imagining such a thing and Percy _doing_ the Thing are completely different. Credence’s jaw drops when he feels Percy’s mouth suckle on the spit slick rim and _then_ he thrusts his tongue inside him, before a hand is firm, and rubbing over the entire length of his aching cock.

He tries to move, little abortive jerks of his hips, and Percy keeps him pinned, while the hand stroking his cock manages to pull him over the edge. Maybe he's just worked up from the rimjob, or something else entirely, Credence doesn’t know. He comes with a loud groan and shudders like he’s been brought back to life an inch from death.

Percy keeps touching him with a hand, a fingertip just barely teasing over his fluttering hole, and his mouth kisses and licks down to the mess on his stomach. He’s cleaning Credence up like it’s nothing, perhaps Percy is regretful he hadn’t put his lips back on the head of his cock before getting him off. The sounds he makes, it’s entirely too filthy, and Credence can’t bear to look. He just feels. Feels every wet swipe of Percy’s tongue on his skin, imagines he can see the man’s throat bobbing as he swallows, drinks down every drop of his spend.

When Percy pulls back, and smiles at Credence, lips shiny and face flushed, he’s a little taken aback. The man’s been shattered by _his_ mouth plenty of times, and never looked quite so… delighted.

“That was…” Percy wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, while Credence tries to form a sentence. In lieu of that, he ducks down and presses his lips to the man’s forehead as a thank you. Percy surges up to his feet and turns it into a proper kiss, pushing him back onto the bed, while one hand curves around his back and the other keeps a leg at his side, now angled to drape over his backside. “You’re so welcome.”

“Now what?” Credence doesn’t mean to sound so impatient, but he knows it comes off like that anyway.

Percy huffs a sigh and then strokes his hair back from his face, blinking down at him.

“Would you let me fuck you?”

That’s what this has all been leading up to, isn’t it? Or is Credence meant to do more to help get Percy in the mood? A quick glance down tells him that’s incorrect, Percy is hard and hot against his thigh, pink head slick with precum, peeking out from under the foreskin. “Okay.” He keeps his voice even, and Percy swallows before moving away. Credence licks his lips when the man isn’t looking, and realizes that he _can_ taste bitterness from the kiss. Something sweet fills the air, a scent like from cheap lip gloss or dime store candy. It’s lube, and Percy’s warm hands are helping the flavor permeate the space between them, before he’s even touching Credence again.

“Do you require me to use a condom, or is it okay if I come inside you?”

He’s actually speechless, having not needed to answer that sort of a question in a long time. Months. Credence tries to think very quickly, and decides he doesn’t want to chance _not_ having Percy’s mouth on him again. “You don’t have to wear one.”

“Great. Thank you.” Percy’s fingers make contact with his ass, two easing inside up to the first knuckle without much effort. He’s aching to be filled in a way that’s almost frightening to him. Percy keeps looking at him to make sure he’s okay, and he has to remember to react verbally.

Credence’s breathing hitches when the fingers slip inside him and graze over his prostate, before going back, and rubbing purposefully. A keening sort of whine escapes him. Percy huffs in what must be triumph, Credence thinks, before doing it again, and again, until Credence’s cock actually hardens painfully fast. He doesn’t notice the third finger, he just grinds down, and Percy’s answering groan is in response to Credence’s cock twitching, spitting out precum in long wet strands. He didn’t know he could come again so quick, but there’s a good chance that the second Percy gets inside him, he _will._

The fingers leave him, and more sweetness fills the air, tickling his nostrils, as the sounds of Percy stroking himself meet Credence’s ears. “I promise I’ll go slow-”

“Don’t.”

He likes it. Likes the way arguing makes Percy react with awe, instead of anger. Likes how the smooth glide of the man’s cock into his ass burns and stimulates him enough for tears to sting his eyes. Credence has enjoyed sex often, but when being paid, it’s treated more like work than fun. Not right now. Percy grunts as he’s fully seated, the head of his cock has just nudged _right_ past Credence’s prostate, he wants to scream. This, this, _this_ is how it should always feel. Money or not.

Percy pulls out and thrusts back in, making Credence choke on a gasp, before starting up a jagged rhythm. While his hands grip firm over the headboard, so there’s little danger of bruising that way. Credence is disappointed, but the mewl that leaves him before another gasp isn’t in response to that, it's how Percy’s cock drives back in. He comes again, and again, it’s like lightening strikes, impossible twice, thrice, he knows, deep down, it’s not a true Orgasm, but something else.

A prostate massage that he’s never expected to receive with every subsequent move from Percy. Credence’s cock pulses out a line of white, dribbling down the side of his ribs, while Percy ducks down to kiss his neck, and warmth fills him.

A soft nibble that turns into a proper bite, and the man groans into his skin, shivering and collapsing over him, riding out the aftershocks from his climax. That’s what that is, Percy’s release blossoming inside his ass.

“I want to-” He starts, and swallows, gulping down air like a man starving, and Percy reacts minutely, an open mouthed kiss, a whispered _‘What is it Credence?’_ so he can continue.

“I want to make _you_ come again.”

“I believe you just did.”

Credence’s cheeks are hot, as Percy leans up on his elbows, smiling in that open way which people only do after sex. Breathless and giddy, Percy’s lost ten years in the moment, as he shuffles backwards, gently urging Credence’s legs open, his gut lurches, and he realizes what the man’s planning to do.

“You don’t have to-”  
“Shh-hh-hh…”

* * *

 

Graves closes his eyes, and bows his head, returning to that now glistening pink, sweet smelling and perfect tasting ass, by way of which he knows, he’s in trouble, because he can’t get enough. His mouth meets it, and sounds wicked, even to his ears, muffled by Credence’s thighs shivering and pressing hard against him. He licks and swallows, grateful for the lube that he’d gotten on a recommendation from a friend, _‘it’ll make things more fun.’_ Damned straight. He almost feels like _he’s_ the whore and Credence is his lovely client, with a story that could make even a cold hearted ice queen cry.

He doesn’t think too hard about it, not when Credence writhes and squirms under him from overstimulation, and he feels a tentative hand in his hair, fingers rubbing over his scalp. A soft _‘please’_ leaves Credence’s lips, and Graves moans aloud, the sound vibrating through the boy, hopefully adding to his pleasure.

He noses up higher, still licking fiercely, and peeks up at the boy’s cock, half hard, deliciously plump, thick enough to make his jaw ache if he works too much at learning to deep throat. Graves isn’t usually like this. Insatiable. He’s not sure if it’s a matter of making the most of their time together, or simply because Credence brings out the worst (or Best) in him.

Either way, he relishes every second, the final few before Credence comes Graves tries to commit his body language to memory. His eyes close, his jaw drops, his back arches, and his fingernails scrape on the nape of Graves’ neck. The boy’s cock twitches and yields a meager droplet of white, and Graves feels Credence’s hole flutter around his thumb as he rubs it over the slippery rim, as his lips close around the swell of one of his balls.

He watches, and sighs, and wishes he could recover so fast. He needs a few more moments, then he’s going to feel desperate enough to beg Credence to do the same to him.

“God… fuck. Sorry. I don’t mean to swear.”

“I want you to say whatever you like.” His voice is a croak, and Credence looks as if he’s shaking. “Okay.”

Graves rolls over and falls onto his back, panting for air and Credence remains prone on his own.

“You’re very good with your mouth Percy.” The compliment makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside, until he considers that maybe it’s all sweet talk because of the job. His jaw tightens, and he looks away from the boy, who’s moving on the bed beside him, turning onto his side, exposing all that pale skin. The few streaks of pink he didn’t cause make him want to ask questions. Badly. But he doesn’t deserve the answers

“Percy…”

“Yeah?” Pointedly not looking is better than the alternative, which is letting his nerves show on his face, the tremors of his hands before he can lace them together over his bare chest. “Forgive me for asking, but will you be feeding me while I’m here, with you?” Graves sighs, and then nods, “Of course. Anything you want. I’ve got plenty of take out recommendations. It’s all I use.”

“What about cooking?” Credence sounds genuinely curious, and it forces Graves to look over at him,

“I suck at it, and I work too much.”

Credence inhales slowly, and Graves’ traitorous gaze sweeps his body. God, he’s so beautiful. A hand snakes out, slides over his stomach, and though his breathing catches, it’s clearly not meant in a sexual manner, Credence is making contact like any human would. It took every muscle in Graves’ body to fight the urge to not pull the boy into his arms after what they just did. Now, he lets Credence advance slowly, until he’s draped over Graves’ chest, cheek pressing to his shoulder. “I have a hard time believing you suck at anything.”

He smiles. “I’m quite dreadful at socializing.”

Credence hums, “I’m not so sure.”

“This doesn’t count.”

“Well, I should hope you’re not paying and fucking all your fellow officers.”

The tone is biting, and Graves should be insulted, but he’s amused. Flattered even. If he doesn’t know better, and he doesn’t, Credence might even sound a little… Jealous? “What if I was?”

Credence pushes up off of him to stare down, lips pursed, and dark brows meeting,

“I’d want to be the best.”

Something like heat tingles down the base of Graves’ spine, and he says nothing. He waits. Credence moves slowly, like a cat stalking. He doesn’t look away from Graves’ eyes as he starts kissing down his chest, as Graves holds his breath, till his lungs burn. Credence licks over his navel, and then exhales over the wet skin, making him shiver. He’s not hard, not by any means, but he _is_ aroused. This is something else. This is Credence going off the books. Graves swallows thickly, and Credence ignores his cock, in favor of wordlessly asking him to open his legs. He does.

Credence breaks the stare to drop down and kiss his inner thigh, before working his way up, not surprisingly, ending by putting his mouth on Graves’ ass. He’s not surprised, but he is grateful. He’d not been sure how to ask. His hands find their way into Credence’s hair. He borrowed some of Graves’ conditioner, he guesses. “Do you want some of the-”

“No.”

The wet warmth of Credence’s tongue follows Graves’ stunned silence. Then he feels like he’s cheated. Using the sweet lube to make eating Credence out more pleasant for them both. Now Credence is just using his saliva and perfect lips and tongue, no help needed. Graves can’t see straight, he’s exhausted but so fucking close within seconds of Credence adding a finger, long and slender enough to catch his prostate in one try.

He realizes exactly how and why shortly afterwards. Credence is more Experienced.  He finishes dry and groans like a dying animal, as Credence keeps licking him through it, he finds himself begging for a respite. Credence rocks back on his heels, and grins down at him, eyes sparkling,

“You taste plenty sweet without any flavoring.” Graves has serious doubts, but another compliment has him smiling right back at the boy. To prove his point, it seems, Credence ducks down to take Graves’ soft cock into his mouth, tongue laving at the head, teasing, swirling around it and milking him of any possible come. Graves can barely see _at all_ past the tears of bliss forming, and he has to forcibly nudge Credence back off of his oversensitive cock. He focuses on breathing before he speaks, sounding a little short, “Okay, okay, okay. Time for dinner.”

They don’t bother dressing much to eat, not when Graves can just pull on a robe and have the food brought to the front door, while Credence lounges on his bed. Pizza is so cliche and simple for a date night, it makes Graves’ heart twinge. Wine is unnecessary, but he’s in need of something stronger than soda. By the time they’re done, Credence hasn’t moved, and Graves feels a bit tired himself. It’s his normal bedtime, quarter till nine.

He feels ancient admitting that to Credence, who shrugs, and says it’s healthier than not. Shut up, shut up, _shut up,_ he tries to warn himself, already feeling the wine loosening his tongue, warming him from the inside out. Credence is flush to his chest, the slender curve of his waist under Graves’ arm. “I’ve enjoyed this evening, very much.” He does manage to bite down on the rest of it, the _‘I hope we can do it again sometime.’_

Credence is smiling, he Hopes. “I liked it too.”

God help him, what has he done? He’s gone and gotten stupid over a rent boy. A young man of the evening. He’s so fucking dumb. He falls asleep with a frown hidden against Credence’s shoulder blades. He wakes around midnight, disoriented, and the bed’s empty. It’s been a fitful sleep, expecting this. He sits up in the dark and swallows painfully around the lump in his throat, only to notice the light on under the door in the bathroom. Oh. Calm the fuck down, he’s still here. Ten more hours to go.

He lays back down, and closes his eyes, feeling when Credence returns, and slides under his arm, nose cold against his skin. Graves holds his breath, but he says nothing. Sleep finds him again, this time, easily.

The next time he opens his eyes it’s because he had a nice dream, which turns out to be aided in part by Credence, mouthing over his hard cock. “Fuck.” Now he can’t look away, and Credence smiles slightly, perhaps glad for a conscious audience. “Good morning.”

Then he’s taking Graves’ cock into his mouth, like always, like usual, their comfortable routine. He’s sucking and swallowing, licking and letting Graves thrust up, without any sign of discomfort. Like this, flat on his back, it’s gotta be the way to spoil him, blowjobs in a grimy alleyway or in a soft bed? The choice is easy, obvious. Graves finds his words after Credence swallows his come.

“I want you to stay. I overpaid you on purpose. Please.”

Graves wants to die, he really has gone off the deep end. Credence pulls off his softening cock, a line of saliva connecting his reddened bottom lip to the end of it. The sight alone makes it twitch. “You… what?”

“I didn’t mean to say that. I mean, I want exclusive appointments. Can I do that? Can I be your only client?”

“Percy… you’re missing the point of this agreement. I’m being paid so I can walk away at any time. If I become your kept boy, I can’t do that.” Graves sighs, but he disagrees, even as Credence keeps stroking over him, absentmindedly, forcing a shiver down his spine.

“I’m sorry, but that’s, ah, bullshit. You can leave anytime _now_. You didn’t have to keep showing up Mondays and Fridays. You didn’t.”

“You’re a cop. You’re telling me, if I hadn’t showed yesterday, you wouldn’t have been looking for me?”

Graves gasps, but it’s a combination of shock and renewed arousal. God he is _so_ fucking insane.

“I would have. Yes. But not because of _this_. Because I would worry. I’d be concerned something happened to keep you from me. Until I learned otherwise.”

Credence’s throat moves, and his eyes drop. He’s touching Graves now to distract him, he knows. Fuck. He’s said too much.

“Why would you care? I’m just some quick-” Graves sits up so fast he sees Credence’s eyes widen as his back pops, “Stop. You’re more than that to me, okay? Look. I know you’re doing what’s best for you. Legal or not. I want to give you the option to stop. If you want. If not. At least… let me recommend something on the right side of the law.”

“I want to believe you. I want to.”

Graves climbs out of the bed, and snags his robe, turning back to see Credence still eyeing him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna cook your breakfast. Then you are welcome to leave.”

Credence frowns, glancing to the clock. “It’s eight. You have two hours left. You’ve overpaid me for that.”

“I know.”

He leaves the bedroom.

The stairs make his back ache, and his jaw is clenched so tight he’s dizzy. He can make coffee, eggs, pour juice, toast some bread. That’s the extent of his skills. It’s enough for two. Credence is there when he looks up from the stove, and he flips the gently sizzling eggs. “Hey.”

He realizes Credence is naked. “You can’t eat like that.”

“I did last night.” Credence is in the kitchen, edging over to where he’s standing, holding the spatula like his last line of defense. From what, he doesn’t know.

“You’re mocking me.”

“No. Percy. I want to apologize. You’re different. You’ve always stood out to me. And not because you’re a cop. Because that’s incidental.”

He’s shaking now. He sets the spatula down and flicks off the burner, stepping away to cross his arms, pointedly not looking at anywhere below Credence’s neck. “Okay. Thank you.”

Credence advances on Graves and leans in to kiss him. It’s soft, and mildly sweet. Graves is terrified to ask for more, despite how very badly he would like Credence to fuck him into the mattress.

“Breakfast, then morning sex?”

“Yes.”

* * *

 

He can count the number of times he’s actually let someone fuck him on both hands. Gotten to fuck someone else? On one. Does his own hand qualify? If he’s in a hurry, and indulging in lube? Those thoughts fall to the wayside once he’s back in Percy’s bed. He can’t think of how many months of rent he can now afford. He can get a car. He can pay off his phone bill. His electric. Hot water will be something he knows.

His roommates won’t have to worry about him coming home at all. Not when he’s got a nice guest room he can use anytime he wants. He’s shaky just thinking about it, and Percy seems to think he’s scared or worried about the _fucking_. Credence thrusts in deeper, harder, and gets a groan for his troubles. He sighs, and stops fighting the urge to come.

This is nice. This is wonderful. _This_ is what they pay the big bucks for, whether in movies, books, or real life. Credence feels Percy’s arms wrap around him, and draw him down for a kiss. He goes, willingly. No more fighting or arguing with himself. He’s been turning tricks for three years, and off and on, he’s been afraid to hope it would ever end in less than a hospital bed or a filthy gutter. A jail cell had been added to that list when he’d met Percy. But he’d still done it. Taken money from an honest to god cop.

He’s a fucking idiot, he knows. When it comes to stupid things, Credence has got the genre on lock. He moves until he can’t hold off from coming any longer, and Percy follows him quickly, clenching around his still hard cock, ripping a gasp from his throat, and holding him close, kissing him, swallowing all the noises he makes.

He doesn’t move, not for a long moment, and when he does, it’s only to withdraw enough so he can watch his own come ooze out of Percy’s ass. It’s mesmerizing in its depravity, and the next thing he knows he’s reaching out to touch, caressing the slippery wet rim, seeing Percy shiver, and react to the overstimulation. “Credence….”

“Yes Percy…?”

“It’s ten o’clock.”

Credence doesn’t actually bother to look at the time, he stares until the blush on his face is hot as Percy felt around him, then he lowers himself down for a kiss, “I know.”

 

* * *

 

 

**END**

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If anyones reading this whos doing nano uh best of luck this lazy bitch aint doing shit.  
> ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤


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